By Blood Repaid
by Selurmoc
Summary: An alternate, not necessarily happy, ending to "Pirates of the Caribbean". Primarily Jack-centric, with Will and Elizabeth also playing a major role. Not a romance.
1. Default Chapter

_**A/N:** Hello! This is my first POTC fanfic. It' is A/U, but certainly, in my opinion, a believable outcome to the story. Feel free to comment on anything you see that doesn't look right, or on something that you do like about the fic. Only constructive criticism please, as flames serve no practical purpose. _

_WARNING: This fic is probably not for the overly faint of heart. I won't say any more, but don't expect a Disney ending, no pun intended._

_I don't usually have much free time, and am in fact swamped with homework to do but I'm avoiding it to write. I'm sure I'll be sorry later. So in brief, this'll be a rather short fic. I'm expecting the max to be 4 chapters, most of them probably relatively short. Most likely I will go on and write more right now, and post a new chapter each day or so until completion, if the fic is received well._

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Disney's. Don't sue, I'm but a poor student who has naught but Cup-O-Noodles with which to pay lawyer fees._

_Now without further ado... I give you:_

**  
By Blood Repaid: Chapter 1**

Silence filled the room. A single gunshot rang out into the stale, salt-tinged dusk that surrounded them. Captain Barbossa staggered back in surprise.

"Ten years ya carry that pistol, and now ya waste yer shot." Barbossa smirked at Captain Jack Sparrow.

"He didn't waste it." Standing in a cave on the _Isle de la Muerta_ in an open room filled with treasure of immeasurable value, Will Turner sliced his palm with the blade of a dagger, and dropped the last coin of the cursed gold of Cortez into the waiting chest below. The blood was finally repaid.

"I _feel_... Cold..." Barbossa whispered. The look on his face then was one of shock. Suddenly he felt-- after ten years of numbness and despair-- alive. He felt, warmth, air, pain and finally, cold. His expression changed to one of horror, and then anger, as he realized that he was bleeding from a gunshot wound to the chest. The curse had been lifted.

He looked ahead, the smirk fading from his lips, into the kohl-lined eyes of the man who dealt him the mortal blow, Barbossa's eyes questioned "_why?"_

Jack Sparrow returned the look with a steely gaze, bereft of nearly all pity, as if to say "_you've had this coming, mate._"

The barrel of Barbossa's gun, formerly trained on the stock-still form of Elizabeth Swann, swiveled shakily to face Jack. The malicious gleam returned to the dying mans eyes, one last time, and he pulled the trigger with a trembling finger.

Jack staggered backwards as Barbossa slumped to the ground, the apple he'd held moments earlier rolling away down to the waters edge, forgotten.

Jack stood for several more moments. His hands traveled quickly down to his abdomen, and then away, covered in blood. The mans face twisted in a grimace of pain, and he dropped to his knees, breathing hard, arms outstretched for support. He'd never suffered a gunshot wound before. Many a sword had nicked and scathed his body during his career as a pirate, but never, until now, had a bullet caught him.

Will and Elizabeth rushed to his side, gently easing the pirate onto his back so they could better see what damage had been done.

"It's not a chest wound--" Elizabeth said, breathless with relief.

"But at this rate he'll bleed to death before we can get him back to the _Dauntless_." Will interrupted, tearing a wide strip of cloth from his own sleeve and applying hard pressure to Jack's wound in an attempt to slow the profuse bleeding.

At this Jack hissed in pain, "Bloody 'ell, Turner! Are ye tryin' to kill me?" He tried to rise, but was easily restrained by Elizabeth's gentle hands.

"Do you think you can walk, Jack?" Will asked.

"Not by me onesies..." Jack paused, thinking aloud, "Oi, what I wouldn't do for some rum."

Carefully Will and Elizabeth got Jack to his feet, and the three of them hobbled back to the waiting dinghy, stopping several times when Jack could go no further.

"Easy Jack," Will spoke softly into the other mans ear after he'd stumbled for the third time, "It's just a little ways now."

The pirate captain nodded vaguely, his head drooping. He clutched his stomach, steeling his resolve, and allowed himself to be hauled the last few yards to the waiting craft.

He gasped sharply in spite of himself as he was maneuvered into the boat. The pain had only grown worse with movement, and the whole front of his dingy linen shirt was soaked and fair dripping with blood. He lay on the floor of the craft, dark head resting in Elizabeth's lap, his kohl-darkened eyes shut against the pain as she dabbed the sweat from his brow with her own kerchief and spoke soothing words.

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A/N: Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Please review to let me know! More to follow soon.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Wow!! Thanks for the reviews, guys. :) I'm glad you're liking the story so far, and hope you will continue to enjoy it more with each chapter._

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Disney's. Don't sue, I'm but a poor student who has naught but Cup-O-Noodles with which to pay lawyer fees._

**By Blood Repaid: Chapter 2**

Upon the _HMS Dauntless_, what remained of the crew was cleaning up from the battle against Barbossa's undead pirates. The surprise attack had proven to be a terrible slaughter and great waste of British Navy men.

Commodore Norrington stood at the wheel, gazing out into the gloom of night, eyes searching the cave opening for any sign of his would-be fiancé, Elizabeth Swann, and the blacksmith, Will Turner. Sometime during the battle he had been informed that she had gone missing. He was sick with worry over what he thought may have become of her, and angry at whoever's lack of vigilance had allowed her to escape, or be captured, in the midst of a dangerous attack on the _Dauntless_.

Reason kicked in, however, and Norrington remembered that the attack had been such a surprise that the man guarding Elizabeth's quarters was likely dead or wounded in an attempt to defend the door, as many of the men on the ship were. And as luck would have it, the ships surgeon had been among the dead, so those who had survived were treating their own injuries, if they were able.

The Commodore's breath caught in his throat as he saw a flicker of white at the entrance to the cave. Though the mist, he could just make out the form of a dinghy making it's way steadily toward the _Dauntless_. Quickly he abandoned his position at the wheel, and moved to the starboard side of the ship, snatching a telescope from one of the officers to get a better look at the approaching party.

Sure enough, there was a boat coming, and in it were two people, one of which he was overjoyed to see: his Elizabeth.

"What on earth is she doing?" he murmured to himself. Elizabeth's head was bowed, and it appeared as though she were weeping, or staring at something on the bottom of the dinghy.

The small craft was swift approaching now, and he awaited her arrival eagerly.

"Men!" Norrington called to his crew, "lower a ladder down the starboard side! Make haste!"

The small craft was drawing ever nearer to the _Dauntless_ with each passing minute. The man rowing, who appeared to be Mr. Turner, seemed intent on getting them there in great haste.

As Elizabeth and Will pulled up alongside the ship, Norrington peered down into the dinghy. A man lay in the bottom of it, still as stone, his body running the length of the craft. His head rested in Elizabeth's lap as she stroked his dark locks in a soothing manner, and his feet were propped up on the bench that Will sat upon.

Will wasted no time in helping Elizabeth up the rope ladder. A quiet stream of curses, in several languages, drifted up to meet Norrington's ears as the dinghy below was upset when Elizabeth moved to climb.

The commodore recognized that voice. It was that blasted pirate, Jack Sparrow. Of all the people for Elizabeth to drag back with her, she had to bring _Jack Sparrow!_

Norrington shook his head, his anger momentarily forgotten as he enveloped Elizabeth in a chaste hug, relieved to have her safely aboard a Navy vessel again. He wrapped a thick blanket around her slim shoulders. "Are you all right, Miss Swann?" he asked, "Are you injured? And what on earth is that _pirate_ doing here?"

"No, I'm fine," Elizabeth rushed the words, "It's Jack."

"What _about_ him?" asked Norrington.

"He's badly wounded, a gunshot wound. You have to help him!" She pleaded.

The commodore frowned, and moved over to the railing again to peer into the boat below. The front of Sparrow's formerly white shirt was dark and glistening in the moonlight. It wasn't looking good for the pirate, he thought. 

Norrington shook his head, feigning regret, "There may be nothing we can do, Elizabeth." he said gently, placing a hand on the side of her face in a gesture of what he hoped looked like compassion.

"But we have to try!" she insisted.

He couldn't deny her this request. The pirate would likely die from his injuries anyway, and he could see no point in grieving his fiancé by denying to give the injured criminal a burial at sea.

By this time Will was already trying, with little success, to coax Jack into a sitting position. The pirate was still lying in the floor of the dinghy, and Will moved behind him to lift his shoulders, but the man immediately slumped back down with a groan. He glanced up to see Elizabeth and Norrington looking down at him.

"A little help?" He called up to them, "I can't lift him by myself."

Norrington's face disappeared from view, and seconds later two red-coated crew members were making their way down the ladder.

Together the three of them managed to get the wounded man onto the _Dauntless_. They did it by fashioning a sort of harness that fit around Jack's chest. One man stayed below, in the dinghy, in case Jack slipped out and fell. The other climbed back up the ladder and enlisted two others to aide him in hauling the pirate up. For his part, Will stayed on the ladder, guiding Jack's progress up it and ensuring that he didn't bang into the hull of the ship.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** Thanks again for the awesome reviews, everyone. You guys are great! :)_

_Also, I should mention that this fic is going to be a little longer than I initially thought. Now I'm thinking more like 5-6 chapters, whereas before I'd said 4 max._

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Disney's. Don't sue, I'm but a poor student who has naught but Cup-O-Noodles with which to pay lawyer fees._

_And on to chapter 3...  
_

**By Blood Repaid: Chapter 3**

  
The two Red-coats that had pulled Jack onto the _Dauntless_ held him steady while they undid the makeshift harness from around his chest. Jack began to sway dangerously within their grasp, his paling face slicked with sweat.

"Put him in the spare quarters, gentleman." Norrington instructed his men. The spare quarters were below deck, and reserved for unexpected passengers of lesser status. The modest room did not contain any flashy furnishings at all, but there was a bunk with a soft mattress and fresh linens, an oil lamp with a good wick for light, a writing surface that lowered from the wall, and a washstand and basin built into the corner next to the bed. It would suit Jack's needs.

Gently the two soldiers lay the wounded man down on top of the bed covers. Will quickly followed them in, and knelt by his friends side, taking Jack's clammy blood-covered hand into his own. He couldn't help but notice how small and vulnerable the captain looked with his carefully constructed facade down.

Jack opened his eyes and struggled to focus on Will beside him, "Rum?" he asked hopefully, his voice little more than a rough whisper.

Will sighed and shook his head, "Brandy?" he suggested.

Jack grimaced in disgust, but nodded nonetheless, "Aye, whelp. That's what it'll 'ave to be then."

Will nodded sympathetically, "I'm sorry Jack. Navy ship, you know." He smirked playfully, but his grin quickly faded, "Brandy should help with the pain as much as Rum would, though I know it's not what you're used to. First let's get you out of that shirt. Can you unbutton it yourself?"

Jack raised his hands to his shirt to unfasten the small buttons running down the front, but he was trembling so badly that managed to accomplish nothing for several moments, other than to feel foolish. He let his hands fall back uselessly to his sides, his pallid face flushing with embarrassment, "Sorry mate. I can't."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jack." Will reassured him, and undertook the task himself, "You've lost a lot of blood, you know."

At that very moment, outside of the door, Elizabeth stood engaging Norrington in what could only be considered an argument. Both of them were headstrong, so needless to say, they were making no headway in the matter at hand, and both refused to back down.

"_Miss_ Swann!" the commodore replied crisply, "Your presence in that room is not required." he continued, "You are not trained as a surgeon, so there is nothing you could do that William cannot. You are a young lady of status, Jack Sparrow is a scoundrel and a wanted man! _If_ he makes it back to Port Royale alive, I _will_ see him hanged. And if your father--"

"_My _father!" Elizabeth shot back, perhaps more sharply than she had meant to. She had been taught not to disrespect her superiors, which included men. "My _father_ does not know what I've been through with Jack and Will! This man saved my life, at least twice, and the least I can do for him--"

"Is to do as your father and I would wish." Norrington interrupted smoothly, finishing her thought in a different manner than she herself would have liked, "Elizabeth, I beg of you. Don't make this more difficult than it already is."

Elizabeth wasn't a fool. She knew this was a mans way of trying to get her to believe that she was over-reacting and being unreasonable. He was trying to paint her concern for Jack as something trivial or childish, selfish even. She was having none of it. 

Being a woman of her time, she knew how to be pragmatic, and so she gave Norrington the most coy look she could muster. Then she closed the distance between them and asked quietly, her lips inches from his own, her voice barely above a whisper, then calling him by his first name, "...and it would mean _so_ much to me, you know. This has been _such_ an ordeal, and I need closure." She bit her lower lip for effect. She looked into the commodore's eyes, cocking her head slightly to one side, and did her best to disguise the anger and disgust she felt for him with a pleading, submissive look. 

She managed to do this without making it look like she had backed down, rather, she turned the tables, and made it appear as though him asking her to stay away from Jack and Will was in and of itself a selfish and unreasonable request.

Naturally, Elizabeth Swann was not surprised when he granted her entrance to Jack's quarters. "Works like a charm," Elizabeth murmured to herself with a smirk, "every time." Make them think they're in control, and they'll give you whatever you want.

The only condition Norrington required for allowing her to go, was that a guard be posted outside the door, and he was to check in on the situation every quarter hour.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: _** _Hello everyone! Please accept my ** most sincere apologies** for not updating in so long. "Real life" has really been kicking my ass for the past few weeks, and so I've not been able to do anything fun or creative. :'(_

_However, fear not, because I have no plan to abandon this fic! The going just might be a little slow._

_Again, I thank you kindly for the reviews! It really means a lot to me to know that people actually read my fic and enjoy it. :)_

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Disney's. Don't sue, I'm but a poor student who has naught but Cup-O-Noodles with which to pay lawyer fees._

_And on to chapter 4...  
_

**By Blood Repaid: Chapter 4**

  
Elizabeth quietly entered the small quarters that had been made into a room for Jack. Will sat, crouched on the floor beside the bunk, unbuttoning the last fastenings on the pirates bloodied shirt. For his part, Jack lay as still as death, and nearly as pale, his chest rising and falling faintly with each shallow breath.

"'Lizbeth?" the pirate slurred, not in his usual intoxicated manner, but because he had not the strength to form the word.

"Shhhh" Elizabeth soothed, covering the distance between the door and the bunk in several strides. She paused to squeeze Will's shoulder lightly, which resulted in the young man blushing furiously and fumbling over the last buttons on Jack's shirt. Then she knelt down, and took Jack's larger hand in both of her own, squeezing it lightly in reassurance. "You're going to be fine, Jack. Will and I will see to it that you're provided with the finest care Port Royale has to offer." she promised.

"It's free, 'Lizbeth," Jack murmured, seemingly oblivious to her previous comment, his brown kohl-darkened pain-glazed eyes squinted up at her. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"What's free, Jack?" Elizabeth asked, clearly puzzled by his statement.

"The _Pearl_. That bloody bas--" he was cut off abruptly as sharp pain washed through him, starting at his middle and echoing throughout his entire body in waves, like water crashing upon the shore. Jack gasped in surprise then, but was soon able to continue, "Barbossa. He doesn't have me ship 'nymore. That bloody bastard's burnin' in 'ell." Jack turned his head away then, face grave, and focused on some point on the ceiling.

"Anamaria has her now, Jack, if it makes you feel any better." Elizabeth commented as she rose from his side to fill a basin with water and fetch a rag for his brow.

Will took this moment to step out to fetch towels, some bandages, and the brandy Jack had requested. He returned within a few minutes toting the necessary items, and behind his back he held a small flask.

"Aye, it does, luv. Anamaria deserves the _Pearl_, she's always deserved better than she's ever had. She'll take good care of 'er. There's no other pirate I'd rather see captain me ship than Anamaria." He smiled wistfully then.

Elizabeth wondered then, and not for the first time, if there had been more to Jack and Anamaria's relationship than that of Captain and First Mate, but she certainly wasn't going to press the issue now. "They will come back for you, Jack. Surely you know that." she brought the basin of cool water over to his bedside and dipped a cloth in, gently wiping his forehead. Already she thought he felt warmer to the touch, a sure sign of fever setting in.

"Aye, lass, but there'll be naught to come back for." he said.

"Don't say such things, Jack. You're going to be just fine." Elizabeth promised, swallowing hard as tears formed in her eyes at the thought of his crew losing him, at the thought of Will losing him.

"Looks like you're in luck, Jack." Will smiled, "Look what I found", and he presented the pirate with the small flask.

"What is it?" Jack asked hopefully, "It's not..."

"Yes, it is! One of the officers had it stored away. It's amazing the things I'm learning about these staunch Navy men." Will grinned foolishly. "Here, let's sit you up so you can have a swig." he offered, moving behind the injured pirate to pull him into a sitting position.

Jack winced at the movement, but thought the discomfort worth it, considering what his reward would be. Eagerly he removed the cap on the flask, and greedily took a generous draught of the rich substance within. He welcomed the taste with relief, knowing it would bring both comfort and at least some relief from the pain. He sighed in pleasure as he felt the rum warming his throat and his insides on its way down, just as it always had done. "Thankee' Will. You're a good man, very good man." he said.

Will nodded in acknowledgment and said, "Don't take too much just yet. It'll make the bleeding worse, Jack." then proceeded to arrange towels, linen for bandages, and a bottle of brandy. "All right, if you're done with the rum for now, I'll clean the wound."

"There ain't no reason to be doin' that, lad." Jack said between gulps, frowning as he realized there was naught left but air in the flask. "I won't last the night, an' I'd like to keep this pleasant feelin' the rum's given me, if you'd be so kind to allow it."

Will ignored Jack's comment and the feeling of dread steadily creeping over him. It had been just over an hour since the incident occurred, and Jack was fading at a frighteningly accelerated pace. "Nay, Jack, I just need to clean you off and cleanse the entrance wound with a bit of brandy, and then put on a light bandage." He hoped he had kept his voice steady, not revealed anything to the pirate.

Elizabeth began gently cleaning Jack's abdomen and chest with a clean wet cloth, wiping away drying blood cautiously. Gently she approached the area of his stomach from which there was still red blossoming, so as not to aggravate the wound further. She couldn't hide a sharp intake of breath as she saw the darkening black and blue flesh around the bullet wound.

"It's so small." Elizabeth commented, her voice barely above a breathy whisper, "It looks barely large enough for a bullet to have passed through."

"Aye," Will added, "Most of the damage is on the inside."

"Like hell it is," Jack quipped from between clenched teeth, struggling to retain his composure. Elizabeth's probing but gentle ministrations were igniting a fire around the wound that was fast becoming too much for him to bear.

Will continued, "That's the way bullets do: the entrance can remain clean, and yet at the same time a mans innards could be destroyed."

"Aye, Will. Ye' keep tellin' me that!" Jack barked angrily, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

At seeing the pirate captain's discomfort, Elizabeth ceased cleaning the affected area and knelt down beside Jack to wipe his brow, which again was covered in a sheen of perspiration.

Will removed the lid from the bottle of brandy and poured some onto a rag, gently rubbing it across Jack's abdomen. He then paused, looking the injured man in the eye, and said, "Jack, I'm going to cleanse the wound now, with spirits. All right?"

Jack, lifted his head slightly from the pillow and grimaced, "If you must, lad, though I'd rather you n-- Bloody HELL, ye' scurvy bastard!" Jack roared, as he tried unsuccessfully to bolt upright. It was suddenly as though Will had lit a fire inside the pirate's abdomen, and delivering the lad a sharp blow was the only sure way to extinguish it.

"Easy, Jack, easy!" Elizabeth tried to calm him, leaning half of her weight onto his chest so as to prevent him from rising. "Calm down, it's over now." She smoothed back his wayward braids and again dabbed his considerably-paler face once more with a cool cloth.

The tears of anguish his eyes had held with a difficulty enabled of stubborn pride, spilled over their bounds in a bitter testament of his mortality, and trailed downward from the outermost corners, leaving a faint hint of kohl in their wake, which Elizabeth wiped away with a bloodstained cloth and a gentle touch borne of compassion, sadness and regret.

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_A/N: It's not over yet. Keep watching for updates. I **promise** I'll finish this. :)_


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